Inside my mug is a face that looks back at me. It's blurred around the edges - like rain clouds and the sun.

It's early in the morning and the curtains ripple in the soft, quiet breeze. My feet are up on the table and I am drinking tea by myself. Ugly feet, with worn out heels. No one else is awake. I thought I'd enjoy this time alone. But I don't. I realize that I am constantly looking for things that aren't with me in that moment. I want company when I am here and when I go out and meet people, I want to come and sit by myself for a while.

I stand at my window and watch the buildings and the rubble from the construction sites. I look at myself in the tea in the mug every time I take a sip and I see my sleep laced eyes.

It's a holiday and suddenly I feel like going to work.